I was walking, left then right, left then right. I found that this made things easier. It gave me a small goal to focus on, just moving my feet. I had learned a lot of little things in the past year of this life. I had learned how to transform, how long I could go without a kill, and how to use my senses and abilities in human form. The things I could do now were impressive compared to where I started, but it still wasn’t anything I wanted. Yet, I had gotten very confident in myself over the last year. Enough that I thought I might be able to try something. To see what happened and go from there.

My only goal since that dreadful night was to go home. I begged and pleaded for it. I needed it with every single fiber of my being. Back home to Vicky, to my family. God, I missed her so much it hurt. Every single one of them. My twin brother, my sisters and their husbands, Mom and Dad, the little ones… They all thought I was dead, buried and gone for a year now. I can't even begin to imagine how they've managed to move on, how they've stitched together a life without me. Carrying on in pain with an empty place in the family, and without any answers as to what happened. But deep down, I wonder… how will they react if I showed up, alive?

I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Every moment, every breath, it's them. It's Vicky. I need her. I need to hold her, to see her face light up when she realizes it's really me. To feel my hands on her and let her know I’ll keep her safe from anything. My brother… he deserved to know I’m alive, that I'm okay, that I made it through that night of terror. But how would I even begin to make up for the agony they’ve endured? The emptiness, the grief, the nights they probably cried themselves to sleep? How do you get past the shock of the reality, because it's not just me coming back from the dead, it's that the world they knew isn’t what they thought. There are unexplainable things that go bump in the night… and they’d be looking at it dead in the face. How would they accept that?

I've fought so hard to master this darkness inside me, to keep it chained so I can protect them. And I thought I’d finally made enough progress for an attempt? But…will Vicky still want a life with me, knowing what I’ve become? What will she do when she finds out I’ve been out there, alive, all this time? What will she think of me when she finds out that I have killed people. She’s a nurse, someone who saves lives. How would she react when faced with a violent force of nature that ends them. What about my sisters, Mom, Seth, and Dad? Would they even recognize me anymore?

After all, I was dead and forgotten. They never found a body, evidence, and never learned any answers. To the cops, my family, and my friends, I was just… gone. I disappeared in a bloody scene of carnage. Pulled from my backyard like I had been abducted by aliens. Shit that might be more believable.

Even with doubts gnawing at the edges of my mind and fear tightening its grip on my heart, I knew I had to try. I needed them back. So, I found myself back in Dallas, standing on streets that felt both familiar and foreign.

The journey that led me there was grueling, each mile stretched into an eternity filled with thoughts of doubt and making a mistake. My body seemed to almost rebel against me as I tried to make my return. I walked under the relentless sun until my legs ached and my shoes were worn thin. Sweat ran down my body in a way I hadn’t felt since before the change. When the roads grew desolate, I stuck out my thumb and hitchhiked with strangers whose faces blurred into one long, sleepless night. The rumble of engines and the smell of gasoline filled my senses as I clung to the hope that each ride would bring me closer. The few truckers that picked me up could sense there was something off about me and didn’t let me ride for long.

But that wasn’t enough. When the highways became endless ribbons of asphalt, I jumped onto slow-moving freight trains, the wind cutting through my jacket as I huddled in empty boxcars. The cold metal beneath me was a stark reminder of how far I’d fallen, but I pressed on.

Days blurred together as I pushed forward, each one longer than the last, until finally, the landscape started to change. The buildings grew familiar, the air carried a hint of memories I’d buried deep. I was home.

Skulking through my old neighborhood, shadows of the past whispered at every corner. I tried to focus on what I was going to do, how I would face them after all this time. But the closer I got, the more the doubt crept back in. Yet I couldn’t stop. Not now.

I came in the cover of night, taking the usual precautions I had come to know over my time in St. Louis. The first thing I had to do was to make sure she still lived in the same house. Our house.

I turned the corner, and there it was; the same familiar house perched in front of those detestable trees that took me from my home. The place where everything changed. My chest tightened as I took in the sight, the memories of that fateful night flooding back with a vivid intensity.

I gazed through the backyard, my eyes tracing the space between the house and the shed, where the shadows seemed to hold echoes of the past. I could almost see the flicker of that night’s events, feel the sharp bite of fear and the overwhelming rush of darkness that had consumed me. My heart skipped a beat, the reality of being this close to my old life crashing over me like a wave. The feeling was indescribable.

The black truck was parked in the driveway, just like it always was, like time itself had frozen in this corner of the world. The grass, the bushes, everything was just as I remembered. It was as if nothing had changed, yet I had been altered beyond recognition. But in that moment, standing there, it felt safe. It felt like home.

After everything, the running, the killing, the endless nights of hiding alone in the shadows; I was finally home.

I slipped into the cover of those once-feared trees, my heart pounding as I moved around the perimeter of the house, a silent ghost haunting the edges of my past. The house was dark, the windows void of light, but I could almost feel the life inside. I moved with practiced stealth, peering through windows, straining to catch any sound, any movement. It was quiet, too quiet.

My breath caught as I silently climbed up to the roof, the familiar creaks of the old structure beneath me a strange comfort. I crept along the roof, making my way to the second-floor windows, where I knew I’d find her. My heart was in my throat as I finally reached my old room. I hung from the roof, the rough edge biting into my palms as I peered inside.

There she was…Vicky. Her blonde hair spilled out from beneath the covers, a soft golden halo in the darkness. I could hear her breathing, rhythmic and steady, a melody I hadn’t realized I’d missed until now. Every few minutes, she would take a deeper breath, filling her lungs completely, and I found myself mirroring her, trying to breathe in time with her, as if that would somehow connect us across the chasm of what I’d become.

I watched her for what felt like an eternity, unable to move, paralyzed by fear. I was terrified of what would happen when she saw me, terrified of what I had become, and terrified of what that thing had made me into. Could she ever accept the darkness that now clung to me like a second skin? Could she ever love me again, knowing the monster I’d been forced to become? I didn’t know. But in that moment, all I could do was watch, filled with a reverence for the life I’d lost, and a desperation for the chance to reclaim it.

After nearly an hour of hovering by the window, she finally shifted in her sleep, rolling over to reveal her face. The sight took my breath away. She was exactly as I remembered. No, she was more beautiful than I remembered. Time had only enhanced the features I once knew so well.

Her lips were soft and full, the kind that seemed made for a smile, though now they rested in a peaceful, almost wistful line. Her cheekbones, gently sloping and delicate, caught the faintest sliver of moonlight, highlighting the smooth curve of her face. Even the single ear peeking out from beneath her tousled blonde hair was a thing of grace, every detail etched into my memory with a newfound clarity. Her quirky humor was present in the bright orange carrot earring that clung to her little lobe. That was her style, funny to her, no care what others thought.

But it was more than that. She radiated a beauty that went beyond mere physical features. It was in the way she breathed, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair cascaded over the pillow in soft waves. There was a serenity in her that I hadn't noticed before, a quiet strength that seemed to draw me in, making it impossible to look away. Something she gained since my departure.

I longed to see her eyes, those intense blue eyes that had always seen right through me, that had always held a depth and a warmth I couldn't find anywhere else. I wanted to lose myself in them again, to feel the connection that had been the anchor in my world. Everything was flooding back. The emotions, the love, the desire I had buried deep inside me over the past year. It all surged forward, overwhelming in its intensity, as if it had never left.

I wanted in there. No, I needed to be in there, to hold her in my arms, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine, to know that she still loved me despite everything. I still wanted my family; I needed them, more than I ever had before. And in that moment, I knew I couldn’t turn back. I had to try, no matter the cost.

My thoughts were cut short by something I saw. An arm reached out from under the covers and wrapped itself around Vicky’s shoulders, pulling her back to the far side. I couldn’t see a face, just the arm.

My heart plummeted. The world I had created in my head over the past few moments shattered like glass.

“What… Vicky…” I could barely whisper out as I hung from the roof.

My whole world was crumbling around me, all the fantasies and hopes were slipping away.

I felt the change. My eyes pulsed, turning them into dark orbs, followed by the burning in my face and hands.

“No… no!” I growled to myself.

I was losing it, losing control. I couldn’t stop, not after seeing what I saw. The monster took advantage of the holes in my focus. I could feel it clawing its way out. My bones snapped and torqued as it tore me apart for control.

I pushed off the roof, soared over the backyard, and landed near the shed. Then I took off, sprinting into the darkness between the trees as my body contorted. Time passed as I struggled in the darkness for control.

It was light out once I had recovered. It was morning. It was a struggle, but I finally pinned the monster back in its cage. Finally, I was able to think again.

I wanted to know who the person beside her was, why they were there, and what it meant for me. I still clung to any sort of possibility of regaining my old life.

I was back outside of the house, but I waited in the upper area of the tall pines behind the shed. I could see perfectly through the window, and I focused my hearing on listening to the conversations.

“What time do you want to go to the store?” Vicky asked.

“I got a few things to do on the computer, but we can go after. It shouldn’t be too long,” the man answered. He followed up his response with a quick kiss on her lips.

A rage was growing inside. Nobody had the right to do this, not to my wife, not to me! Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

He left for another room, and I adjusted myself in the trees to see through another window. I could only see the back of his head while he sat at the computer desk typing. What a fucking asshole. He was sitting in my old chair like he fucking owned the place. Then, he spun around, and I saw him. My mind fell silent. Ben’s face appeared.

Ben Wood, my old best friend. He was the man living in my house, sleeping with my wife, living MY life. It was uncontrollable this time. In the branches of the trees, the monster ripped out. I shifted in an aggressive rage, expanding and growing. My fangs and talons ripped out like switchblades. I locked my legs in place as I turned, keeping control of at least one part of my body. The trees shook and convulsed as I went through the metamorphosis, probably drawing attention to my area.

I wouldn’t do what I was aching to do. I wanted to kill him… and her. No! I wouldn’t. The monster wanted to, but I wouldn’t let it.

I tried to think of it as a separate entity, not the darkest parts of my own mind. It made it easier to live with. I fought off the thoughts and tried to regain control, but it was fruitless. The change had happened, and I was primed for the attack. My emotional state was too stressed.

Only one question raced through my mind. Why? Why was Vicky with someone else? It had only been a year. How had she moved on so fast? What was happening?

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

My thoughts were a chaotic blur, a storm of confusion and betrayal swirling inside my mind. How could they? My best friend and my wife… how could they do this to me? I couldn’t make sense of it, and the more I tried, the more the anger built up, like a tidal wave crashing against the fragile walls of my control. My enhanced strength took over, and with it, the talons that had become a part of me. They tore through the upper branches of the trees, shredding them to splinters as I thrashed about, a violent outburst driven by emotions I could barely contain and the killer instincts that had been forced upon me by the monster that dwelled within.

But then, in an instant, everything changed.

A sound cut through the chaos, soft at first, barely noticeable amid my fury. It was the cry of a baby. The rage that had consumed me just moments before washed away as if it had never existed, leaving behind a silence so profound it felt like a void inside my head. I froze, the world around me narrowing to the sound of that tiny voice. The baby’s cries grew louder, more insistent, tugging at something deep within me, something human that I thought I had lost.

And then, Vicky came into view through one of the back windows, cradling a baby girl in her arms. My breath caught in my throat. The sight of the baby’s solid pink onesie was a jarring contrast to the darkness that had taken root in me. It was unmistakable, a little girl. Their little girl.

“Ben, can you take her for a second? I have to pee really bad,” Vicky urged, her voice casual, almost playful. She handed the baby off to Ben, who stepped into view with a soft smile.

“Yep… come here, little bug,” he sang to her, his tone gentle and full of affection as he cradled her in his arms and tickled her belly. The baby cooed, a sweet, innocent sound that seemed to echo in the space where my rage had been.

I felt myself shrinking down, back to my human form. The claws receded, the fangs disappeared, and the burning anger that had driven me to the edge of madness faded away. All that was left was a hollow, stunned silence as I watched the scene before me.

So many questions flooded my mind, each one more overwhelming than the last. How long had they been together? Was this why they had betrayed me? And the baby…was she Ben’s? The reality of what I was seeing hit me like a punch in the gut, leaving me breathless and reeling.

Everything I thought I knew had been shattered, leaving me standing there, a broken man in the shadows, trying to piece together the fragments of a life that had already slipped through my fingers.

I stood frozen in the trees, my body as still as a statue, my eyes locked on the little baby girl in Vicky’s arms. She was so small, so impossibly tiny. Too small. My mind started racing, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. She couldn’t be more than a few months old, maybe two at most. But something about that timeline didn’t add up. I began doing the math in my head, my thoughts swirling with confusion and a growing sense of dread. Two months old… plus nine months…

It didn’t make any sense. The more I calculated, the more my heart pounded in my chest. If she really was only a few months old, that would mean she was conceived right around the time I… when I disappeared.

No. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be mine. She had to be Ben’s. My mind seized on that thought, clinging to it desperately. This was his little girl. It had to be. But as soon as I thought it, the idea unraveled, slipping away like sand through my fingers. The only way that could be true was if Vicky had been with Ben right before or right after I vanished. And that didn’t add up. It didn’t fit with what I knew about Vicky; about us. She wouldn’t do that… couldn’t do that. I knew her too well. We were it for each other.

Which meant… if I was right, if my calculations were correct, then she was… she was mine.

The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. We had been trying, Vicky and I, hoping for this very thing. But I never knew… I had no idea she was pregnant when I disappeared. The last time we were together, the night I was attacked, that had to be when it happened.

A part of me wanted to reject it, to push away the truth that was slowly dawning on me. I prayed for another explanation, some reason that didn’t involve me. Maybe they were babysitting, maybe this little girl belonged to someone else. My mind grasped at straws, searching for anything that could make sense of this chaos.

But deep down, I knew the truth. It settled into my bones, cold and undeniable. That little girl… she was mine. And with that realization came a wave of emotions so intense, I could barely stand under their weight.

----------------------------------------

It was night again. I was stalking through the woods beside my house. I just wanted to go home. I ached for it, yearned for it. I felt so tired, mentally, from living this new life, and I just wanted to be home again. When I left St. Louis, and the shithole factory I had found, I thought I was saying goodbye for good. I thought I was leaving the shadows, the loneliness, and the pain behind. I didn’t even look back; I was so sure of my plan. I could feel the pressure of tears building in my face. I knew what was happening. My home was slipping away.

I spent all day pacing, thinking about what this meant for me. I thought I could come back now that I had control, but what I learned was that I had no control. I almost killed Vicky and Ben again, when I saw them together. I couldn’t stay the way I had hoped. Now, things had changed drastically. The girl, the innocent little baby, was mine. I could see it in her face. She shared features with me; her blues eyes were my shade, not Vicky’s. Her hair was a light brown, not blonde like her mother’s. I could see it, feel it, I knew she was my daughter.

Everything changed in that moment, and a crushing despair settled over me like a dark, suffocating shroud. No matter how much I wanted to come home, to hold Vicky in my arms again, to be a part of my family… I couldn’t. The realization struck me with a force that left me breathless. Just being near them, being near her, would put them all in unimaginable danger. There were too many questions about what I had become, too many unknowns about the darkness inside me. And I knew, with a certainty that tore at my soul, that if I stayed in their lives, I would only bring them pain and suffering.

That was all I had brought to anyone since becoming this creature. For the past year, every encounter, every moment had been tainted by violence, fear, and the monster that I couldn’t fully control. I couldn’t do that to Vicky, not to her, not to my family, not to the life I had once known. If I came back, they’d have to hide me, lie for me, and constantly protect themselves from the threat I posed.

Maybe… maybe things were better the way they were now. They had already gone through the agony of losing me. If I returned, they would only have to relive that pain all over again. Vicky had someone now, someone who could give her the normal life I could no longer provide. But my family… they would never understand. Once they knew what had happened to me, what I had become, their pain would be even greater than it already was.

The realization that I had to leave again, that I couldn’t stay no matter how much it tore me apart, brought me to my knees. I cried, the anguish ripping through me, as I accepted the truth. The only way I could keep this little girl safe was to stay away from her, to disappear once more into the shadows. I didn’t even know her name, but the love I felt for her was already overwhelming, consuming me with its intensity. I would give everything for her, even the life I wanted back so desperately.

But before I left, before I vanished from her life for good, I had to know her name. That was the one thing I couldn’t leave without. It was the only piece of her I could allow myself to hold on to, the only connection I could keep as I walked away from everything I had ever loved.

I waited until Vicky and Ben put her down for the night, and then for the two of them to go to bed. Then, I quietly entered the house through the upstairs office window. They really should have locked it. They had no clue what lingered in the world. I snuck through the house, avoiding the creaks I remembered in the floor. I made my way down to the guest bedroom, which was now the baby’s room.

I pushed the door open and clenched my fists to steady myself. Every step I took felt like it carried the weight of a lifetime as I walked into the room. The air was fresh, filled with the soft scent of baby powder and something sweet, almost like a new beginning. The room was clean, vibrant with color, yet the silence was almost deafening. Above the crib, a lit mobile of stars and moons gently turned, casting soft shadows that danced on the walls.

I forced myself forward, each step feeling like it might be my last. When I reached the crib, I stopped, unable to move, unable to breathe. There, wrapped snugly in a pink blanket, was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. Her tiny face, peaceful in sleep, held a reflection of me. A reflection that made my knees weak and my heart ache in ways I didn’t know were possible.

My daughter… she was mine. The fact hit me like a tidal wave, and I couldn’t hold back the tears that began to stream down my face. They fell silently, each drop like a lost moment, every missed memory leaving me for good. I tried to swallow the knot in my throat, tried to keep the wall of emotions I’d built up over the past year from crumbling, but it was useless. The love I felt for her, the overwhelming need to protect her, to be in her life, shattered every barrier I had put in place.

She was mine, my daughter. And in that moment, all the pain, all the fear, all the darkness I had carried with me seemed to fall away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered emotion of a father looking at his child for the first time.

I frantically searched the room, my heart racing as I looked for any clues, anything that might help me understand the life that had continued without me. My eyes landed on a thin book, its cover adorned with pictures of the little girl who lay sleeping in the crib. The title on the front read, Caydee Sam Roberts. My heart skipped a beat. She had my name.

I picked up the small photo album, my hands trembling as I opened it. The first image was of Vicky, her belly round and full, with life growing inside her. She was radiant, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. The photos captured her in different moments, glowing with anticipation and the kind of happiness that only comes with the promise of new life. Ben was there too, in so many of the pictures, his arm around her, his hand resting on her swollen belly. They looked so close, so intimate, like partners sharing a journey I was no longer a part of.

The pages turned slowly under my fingertips as I stole glances at Caydee every few seconds, unable to fully tear myself away from either her or the images in front of me. Most of the photos were from the day she was born. The hospital room filled with smiles, joy, and the kind of love that permeated every frame. My heart ached as I saw my family there, surrounding Vicky, holding Caydee for the first time. My brother was in many of the photos, sitting beside Vicky, a protective arm around her, his eyes filled with a love that both comforted and tortured me. He looked like he was trying to be strong, to keep them both safe, as if he had taken on the responsibility that should have been mine.

Tears began to stream down my face, faster and heavier with each passing moment. The knot in my throat swelled, making it nearly impossible to breathe, but I stayed silent, unwilling to disturb the stillness of the room.

In the back of the album were little paragraphs, messages written for Caydee to read when she was older. They were filled with love, hope, and a deep sense of family. But one in particular stood out to me, the words burning into my soul.

Caydee,

You have no idea how much you are loved. So many people watched you come into this world and can’t wait to see the person you will grow into. We all love you so much, sweetie. We have been through a lot, but we have so many people in our lives that are helping us through this time, and they want nothing more than to see us happy. Your Uncle Seth has been here for you since before you were ever born, always remember that sweetie. I know that your Daddy is looking down on you, Caydee, wishing he was here. We will always love you, little bug.

Forever and always,

Mom

Each word hit me like a hammer, driving home the reality of what had happened, what I had missed. Vicky had written this, pouring her heart onto the page, leaving behind a message of love and strength for our daughter. But it was more than that, it was a farewell to the life we had once shared, an acknowledgment that I was no longer part of their world.

The truth unraveled before me with a clarity that was both painful and undeniable. Ben had stepped in after I was gone, when I couldn’t be there. He had taken care of Vicky, supported her, helped her navigate the darkest time of her life. And somewhere along the way, they had found love. It wasn’t their fault. They had found each other after a loss that had shattered both of their lives.

As I sifted through the fog of my own accusatory thoughts, the anger and betrayal that had consumed me began to fade, replaced by something far more devastating…acceptance. Vicky was happy, and that’s all I had ever wanted for her. She had found a new life, a new love, and they had little Caydee, a precious gift that had come from the life we once shared. They were a family now. But a family that didn’t include me.

The realization was agonizing, tearing at my heart with a pain so profound it felt like I might never recover. But in that pain, there was also a sense of peace. I could see that they had found something good, something beautiful, even after all the loss and heartache. And while it broke me to accept it, I knew I had to let them go. They had moved on.

And now, so must I. I had to forget the idea of ever regaining my old life. It was gone, dust in the wind. That’s what I had to be.

I put the book down and went back to Caydee. I hovered over her crib, trying to memorize her face. I wanted to be with her forever, to be there when she needed me, to take care of her, to raise her. I reached in and grazed my hand over the top of her head. She was so fragile, so soft. Her quick, shallow breaths were adorable, so adorable it hurt to watch, only because I knew I would never see them again.

I stayed with her for as long as I could that night. I watched and grazed my hand against her little head of hair. I had been in there for almost two hours until I heard someone else start to stir down the hall in another room. It was probably time to feed her. This was it. This was goodbye.

I leaned over her crib and stuck my face down to hers. I kissed Caydee on her soft little forehead as she lay silently in her bed. I started crying again, wishing for more time. My heart ached as I knew I had to leave her. I didn’t want to. I touched her little chest, feeling the rise and fall of her small lungs.

“I love you… and I’m sorry…”

I went numb, cold like a soulless demon. I pushed everything down. Everything! I shoved it as far as I could so I could pull myself away. I climbed out of the second-story window and fell to the ground below. There was no trace of my presence left behind. I could have been a ghost.

Once I was a reasonable distance away from the house, I let it all back in. I cried, not like I did inside her room, but loudly, unrestricted. I wailed in the early morning hours of the forest. I swiped at trees with clawed hands. I punched anything solid that was in my reach. I had to get it out. The fiery rage was eating me up inside as I loathed myself for what I was.

I came back to Dallas for a second chance at my old life. I found that I had left more behind than I initially thought, and… I had to leave it all again. Vicky, Seth, my family, Ben, and most importantly, Caydee, would never know the truth. They couldn’t know, not ever. If they ever found out, it would ruin what they had built together. The family after the tragedy. So, I couldn’t exist. Not to them anyway. Not anymore. I knew what I was now, and that didn’t fit here.

I died a year earlier, and it would stay that way. The only way I knew I could protect Caydee from the monster was to stay away, forever.

The finality of that decision hit me like a cold, unforgiving wave, washing over any hope I had clung to. The truth was undeniable: I didn’t belong here. I couldn’t exist in their lives, not as the man I had become. I had to let them live, let them thrive, without the shadow of the monster looming over them.

So, I died again that night, a ghost in the darkness, unseen and unknown. I walked away from everything I had once loved, through the cold, dead trees that creaked and groaned in the brisk wind of the night. There was no home for me here, no warmth, no comfort. The shadows were my life now, and the loneliness was the only company I deserved.